


Save A Car, Ride An Angel

by GalracatKeith (SpaceDanster)



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is Not Innocent (Good Omens), Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Praise Kink (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex in the Bentley (Good Omens), Smut, guess theres some humor in here too, imagine the the car scene from titanic, that but in the bentley, they dine at the ritz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 15:34:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20212108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceDanster/pseuds/GalracatKeith
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley go out for one of their dinner dates at The Ritz, only for Crowley to realise (not for the first time) that there is no such thing as an innocent angel. And least of all his angel.A dinner and several glasses of wine later, they find themselves stumbling to the Bentley in chance of (maybe) making it home with their pants still on.





	Save A Car, Ride An Angel

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a birthday gift for my dear friend @Lord_Overlord. But due to work and general bullshit, this has been 99% done for at least a month now. This was also beta’d the shit out of, and would probably never been done if not for the help. So thanks and uh, delayed happy birthday my dude. Love ya.

It was an unusually beautiful evening, soft golden streaks streaming in through the impossibly tall windows, twinkling off the chandelier across the room, casting it into an almost dream-like, mesmerizing light. Marble columns were towering over the busy tables, giving way to the intricate patterns of gold dancing across the ceiling.  
Clinking of glasses and idle chatter filled the air as waiters bustled around with mouth watering plates of seasonal lamb, veal, lobster, fillet de mignon and anything and everything one’s stomach could possibly desire. 

None of this, however, was on the mind of two individuals seated far back in the restaurant. 

“To think we wasted so much time on this silly little dance of ours…” Aziraphale mused, cheeks flushed red from wine, eyes not leaving the demon by his side. As much as he would have liked to blame it all on the circumstances of their shared history, the angel knew it was his own stubborn streak that had left them both yearning what they could not have. 

Or rather, what he had refused to accept could be a reality, blinded by his own misguided loyalty - loyalty to a side that hadn’t truly been his in millennia. 

The Apocalypse-that-never-was made that all too clear. 

“‘Suppose you're right.” Was Crowley’s muffled reply, having already finished yet another glass of wine, a wide grin spreading across his face as he reached for the bottle between them. This action, however, was halted when the demon felt a pressure on his thigh. 

After all, Aziraphale vowed to never let anything nor anyone come between him and his demon again. 

Had Crowley not already been so far into his wine haze, he might have noticed the angel resting his hand on his knee much earlier. As it was, he simply sat frozen in his seat, hand outstretched towards the bottle. 

“Something the matter, my dear?” Aziraphale asked sweetly, blue eyes fixing him with a look so sinful the demon thought he might discorporate on the spot. Not for the first time since the two finally admitted their love for one another was Crowley left speechless - this time however, his mind was trying to push through the drunken haze, wondering if this was truly happening _right_ now. “You seem quite flustered, Crowley.” 

Despite the innocent look on the angel’s face, his tone of voice told a different story, eyelashes fluttered against flushed cheeks as he kept his eyes locked on his companion through six thousand years, - six thousand years which had left him with that precise number to ponder what exactly would drive the demon wild. After all, Crowley was not the only one with a creative imagination. 

“I...uh-” Crowley’s breath hitched in his throat as he felt the hand on his thigh move upwards, his own shooting up to his mouth to silence the small hiss that threatened to escape his lips. Slit eyes widened behind the circular shades, darting around the crowded room of laughing restaurant guests, none of them noticing the little show his companion was putting on.  
The next time he heard anyone call angels ‘innocent’, he would recall this exact moment and loudly protest. 

When Aziraphale had used his own words against him, to ‘tempt him to a spot of lunch’ this was nowhere near what he had in mind.

...Not that he was complaining.

“More wine?” Honestly, the angel could have been offering him to drink holy water at this point and he would gladly accept, “You seem rather parched, dear. Crowley. Is there something wrong?”

“It’s not quite like you to be this quiet, ” he practically whispered, a knowing look lurking behind the apparent innocence in his eyes. The angel squeezed his thigh.

Aziraphale’s voice was doing all sorts of things to his body, things he would soon have to deal with if this went on for much longer. Despite being a demon, and temptation being as natural to him as walking, the obscene scenarios running through his mind were nowhere near anything he could be taking credit for. 

“A-Aziraphale-.” What had been meant to come out in a warning tone, resulted in a breathy whine, clutching the now-filled wine glass with feverish restraint. If he was going to survive this much longer, he needed alcohol. Lots of alcohol.  
“You’re a right bastard, you know that angel?” Crowley spoke into his glass, draining it before the angel could get another word in. Unfortunately, words were not something Aziraphale needed at that exact moment, lithe fingers ghosting across the stiffness the angel knew he would find. His eyes twinkled mischievously as Crowley almost spat the wine right back up, badly hiding a whimper as he coughed into his hand.  
The demon rolled his hips into the touch, biting down at his lip to keep a rather loud hiss from escaping him. His breath hitched in his throat as the angel kept working him through the fabric, eyes sliding shut behind the dark sunglasses. His trousers were starting to get painfully tight, the angel’s fingers playing him like a finely tuned piano. 

A sound forming in the back of his throat snapped him out of his reverie, his mind moving at a slug’s pace, only to notice his mistake a moment too late. Crowley’s eyes shot open as a breathless moan slipped past his lips, his nails digging into the soft fabric of the tablecloth beneath his hands. Panic struck him as he glanced wildy around the room, swallowing hard as he couldn't have possibly been more grateful for the angel masking their presence. _The bastard._

The angel’s hand retreated as he leaned back in his chair, the obvious mirth in his eyes making him look less angelic each passing moment, and Crowley couldn’t possibly have been more in love with him. 

“It’s- It’s getting late, angel. I say it’s time we return to my place. Or yours. Wh-Whichever, one of them.” The demon forced out in what he hoped was a steady voice, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. It was gradually getting more and more difficult for him to keep his composure, the teasing touches having left his skin prickling, yearning for more. 

“Are you asking me to skip dessert?” Aziraphale hummed lightly, Crowley’s eyes following the movement of the angel’s fingers as they tapped against his glass in thought. The angel needn’t see the demons eyes to know where his attention was lingering, pulling his lips into a sweet smile. “I don’t see why there is any rush.”

A string of hissed curses left the demons lips, his entire being aching for the taste of the angel’s lips, their hands on one another, and Aziraphale above hi- _Great_, he was getting carried away. In The Ritz, no less. 

_Again._

Forcefully clearing his throat, Crowley locked eyes with his angel once more, shades slipping down his nose to truly convey his irritation.  
His scowl, however, was interrupted by the feeling of an ankle brushing against his own.  
“Are you quite alright, dear? You seem rather tense.” 

Crowley pressed his lips into a thin line, eyes narrowing dangerously. Oh angel, two could play this game. He was a demon for Heav-, Hel-, for _somebody’s_ sake.  
“Angel, either we are leaving right now, or I swear on Satan´s left bollock I _will_ have you here on this table, for all of creation to see.” A moment of stunned silence passed between them as Aziraphale gaped, expression scandalized.  
“O-oh...That is um. Why, that is quite! Indeed, well...Huh!” He tripped over his words, flushing a deeper red,  
“I’m leaving.” Crowley then announced rather loudly, yet again startling Aziraphale out of his muddled thoughts.  
“So unless you join me, darling. You are welcome to remain here,entertaining yourself on your own terms.”  
He emptied the remaining wine in one graceful swig, his eyes never leaving Aziraphale’s. The angel swallowed thickly as Crowley moved out of his seat, eyes following the slight… problem the demon seemingly had forgotten in his high. 

Aziraphale coughed out, unable to tear his eyes away from those impossibly tight trousers. Oh dear, temptation absolutely accomplished.  
“R-Right, indeed, well- I-I do believe it is time for us to leave.” He finally tore his eyes away from the demon’s distraction, looking up at Crowley under half lidded eyes.  
“Yours or mine?” Aziraphale added in a hushed voice, making Crowley stumble over himself as he abruptly recalled his recent predicament. Once again thankful for his sunglasses, the demon chanced a look around the restaurant, convinced the apparent disregard of their presence was the angel’s work. 

“Yes.” Was the only reply the angel got, Crowley shifting awkwardly while he waited for Aziraphale to move. Getting to the Bentley was his main priority. His thoughts wandered as he was well aware how skillful Aziraphale was with his hands, and with his confident quips when the demon least expected it. Much like during a romantic anniversary dinner, renewed sparks running through his body at the memory. 

Fuck, they should have been in the Bentley ten minutes ago. 

“Angel.” Crowley warned, refusing to admit that he might have been pouting for a good minute, restlessly waiting on Aziraphale to move. The angel quietly drained the last of his own wine, wiping his hands and making sure to pay for the dinner. With a generous tip, of course. 

“Let us leave then.” Aziraphale finally announced, a slight bounce to his step as he wandered off towards Crowley, locking their arms together.. 

The two almost stumbled over each other in haste to reach the Bentley, Aziraphale’s hand resting lightly on the lower part of the demon’s back the whole way. As they rounded the corner, he soon found himself pressed up against the side of the car, Crowley’s lips all too easily finding his own.  
“Crowley...” Aziraphale hummed into the embrace he found himself in, a hand moving to rest a thumb just beneath the demon’s sunglasses. His other, of course, was still resting on the demon’s lower back, gradually moving downward, pulling Crowley flush against him. A sound resembling a whimper left the demons lips at the action, breathing hard at the friction between them.  
“Crowley.” Aziraphale repeated, this time a slight bite to his tone, his breathing heavy with want.  
“Mh?” The demon responded lamely, a hiss escaping him as Aziraphale grinded up against him.  
“Car. Now. “ It might have been meant as a simple request - but Aziraphale’s demanding tone did nothing to calm his burning arousal. Not to mention the hardness currently pressing against his thigh. Somehow, Crowley got the feeling they might never reach their destination, the backseat of his car looking more and more tempting for each second the angel’s hands were on his body. 

_Car. Okay. Yes-_

“Keys, where did I put my-” His muttering was quickly silenced as the demon was now the one finding himself the one pinned against his car, the search for the keys long since forgotten.  
“Do not make me repeat myself, dear.” Aziraphale spoke quietly, the warning in his voice not going unnoticed by the demon. Despite their current position, and his better judgement, Crowley’s mouth seemed to take on a life of its own. As if to specifically punish its owner in the worst way possible.  
“And what if I do, angel? You about to punish me? Doesn't seem very angeli-” He was abruptly cut off, however, as the angel’s thigh was pressed between his legs efficiently shutting him up.  
“I am inclined to believe you would rather not continue with this line of reasoning, my dear. If that truly is the case, I will leave immediately. _Alone_.” It was clear to both that Aziraphale’s patience was starting to run out, and Crowley, despite his love for teasing, knew when to quit while he was still ahead. Or so he liked to claim.  
His reply, however, was interrupted by a rather loud cough coming from the side street, snapping them both out of the...moment the two were having. A series of dirty looks were sent their way from horrified humans passing by, both of them apparently forgetting to mask their presence in their hurry. 

“I will _not_ repeat myself, Crowley-” Aziraphale spoke quietly, leaning in just enough to brush his lips over the serpent tattoo by the demon’s ear. Before he could even finish his threat, the door next to them popped open, the keys to the Bentley be damned.  
“Excellent work, my dear.” The angel smiled as he took a step back, the mischievous look having returned to his eyes.  
Crowley, being unaware of just what the angel was planning, moved into the driver's seat out of habit, only to find his lap full of angel as the door closed behind him.  
“Azira-” His outburst was quietly silenced by the angel’s lips, an unyielding hunger feasting on his being as the angel’s hands were at his face, his chest, his everything. A pitiful moan formed at the back of Crowley’s throat, giving Aziraphale just the access he needed to delve further into tasting his partner’s lips. Barely a moment later the demon’s jacket was discarded, thrown carelessly into the back while the angel worked to further remove his demon’s tight fitting attire.  
A guttural moan left Crowley as he was pushed further back in his seat, his fingers scratching at the rough material of Aziraphale’s coat, desperately attempting to rid the angel of the fabric keeping them apart. His hips bucked against the other’s hardness as wet lips trailed down his throat, the teasing nipping on his skin setting his entire body on fire. He needed more, and he needed it now.

“Angel, please.” Crowley breathed, his voice resembling a weak whine to get the angel moving. “Come on, lose the clothes already.” His breath hitched as Aziraphale undid the demon’s belt, his tight trousers undone before his brain could catch up with the angel’s actions. An obscene sound slipped past Crowley’s lips as the angel took him in, the skillful hand working him in the manner he had been imagining for a good amount of the evening.  
“That will do nicely, my dear.” Aziraphale muttered with barely held back restraint, using the hand currently not occupied to pluck the sunglasses off of the demon’s nose. “Though I must say, I do not think we are quite at the pleading stage yet, love.” He gave a few more strokes before pulling his hand back, ridding himself of his coat while taking in the sight of Crowley breathing heavily, though rather unnecessarily, underneath him. 

This cramped space would certainly not do, not for what he had planned. 

The car seat creaked dangerously as Aziraphale leaned over the demon again, tracing featherlight kisses along Crowley’s defined jaw. Said demon whined miserably at the loss of contact, unable to chase after the angel’s touch under the weight of Aziraphale pinning him to the leather seat.  
“Angel…” Crowley breathlessly mouthed, licking his lips as every fiber of his being were yearning for another kiss, another touch. Aziraphale had always been one to go _slow_, as apparent by the six thousand years leading up to the start of their romantic relationship. While he had always been supportive of the angel’s careful nature, Aziraphale’s newfound confidence concerning the more intimate side of their relationship had given him an entirely new definition of the angel’s ability to go slow.  
“Aziraphale, please.” At the demon’s pleading tone, the angel’s lips left Crowley’s neck with a muffled hum, teeth scraping against hot skin, earning him a series of desperate hissing noises.

“Patience, my dear.” Aziraphale tutted as both their shirts were discarded with a snap of his fingers, the demons hands tracing every last bit of skin he could reach. The angel took a moment to enjoy the sight in front of him, Crowley effortlessly wiggling out of his skintight trousers, perhaps more feverishly than Aziraphale could recall ever seeing him.  
“Darn these- a little help, angel?” Crowley grunted from underneath him, finding it hard to complete his mission with the angel still pinning him to the car seat. Despite his flushed look, the demon still had a confident smile to his face, apparently caring little for his state of undress.  
“I am afraid I find this position rather unfortunate.” Aziraphale noted, fighting to keep back the soft smile at Crowley’s indignant whine, clearly not approving of the angel’s lack of movement. “Just a moment, dear-” He added as Crowley was about to voice his complaint again, easily quieting the demon by running his fingers down his lover’s chest.  
“Mh, I will have to do something about this.” The angel mumbled quietly as he leaned forward again, disapproving of whatever conclusion he had arrived to in his mind. 

Before Crowley had the chance to question whatever the angel was on about, he found himself on his back, pressed into the leather sofa of his Bentley’s back seats. His eyes were wide as he gazed up at the angel above him, tongue wetting dry lips at the sight. If Aziraphale had looked sinful earlier that evening, it was absolutely _nothing_ compared to the look he had currently fixed on the demon. Not only did they no longer find themselves in the driver's seat of the car, but it looked like the angel had finally answered Crowley’s prayers and rid himself of the remaining fabrics separating them. Even the sight on its own, nearly made the demon lose it.  
There was a hunger in the angel’s eyes that he had never witnessed before, despite the two having been fairly active in the sexual part of their relationship. 

It was hardly the first time they were intimate like this. It was the first time Crowley found himself naked in the back seat of his Bentley.

“Did-did you just miracle us from…” Crowley gestured from the driver seat he had just been seated in, to the slightly more spacious backseat they were now very much occupying. Aziraphale simply hummed as he leaned back in to capture the demons lips yet again, effectively cutting Crowley off from commenting on how the windows of his car were not supposed to be tinted. He would sooner rather than later have something else entirely to focus on.  
“I cannot have my way with you dear, if there is no room for us both.” Aziraphale paused as he leaned back up, raking his eyes across the demon’s body. “And I do think you look absolutely dashing underneath me like this.” 

“‘Ziraphale…” Crowley groaned miserably, the angel’s lips once again at his throat, deep bruises only an angel willing could leave in their wake. His hands were grasping at the angel’s arms, his back, his hair, the heat between them hotter than any celestial flame. Aziraphale drank in the demon’s noises, teeth grazing against sensitive skin while he moved his lips ever so slowly across his lover’s chest. Another whimper left Crowley as lithe fingers brushed over his hip bones, unable to keep his hips from bucking up towards the body above him, seeking contact but achieving none.  
“You are doing fantastic, my dear boy.” The angel spoke softly, eyes not leaving the marks trailing down the demon’s body. _Angel kisses_, not burned into-but plastered across the skin as if branded. Crowley was his, and his only. He be damned if anyone would get the wrong idea - as if he would share after six thousand years of longing. 

“Yes, yes. You are absolutely right, I should get a move on.” Aziraphale noted with a mischievous edge to his voice, after another sinful mewl left the demon clawing at the angels arms for attention.  
“It’s about bloody time.” Crowley breathed, hair falling into his eyes as he already looked thoroughly fucked, which the angel belately noted, was a good look on him.  
“You seem quite needy today, my dear.” The angel smiled, dragging his fingers alongside the demon’s inner thigh, watching through hooded eyes how Crowley tensed beneath him. 

Waiting, expectant. 

“Would you truly have left me to entertain myself ?” Aziraphale near purred, lifting the demons knee to place a featherlight kiss on his thigh. “Or would you have taken me on my favorite table, as I am about to take you?” Crowley’s reply was lost as the angel kept placing warm kisses along the demon’s inner thigh, pulling away only to see the desperation in Crowley’s eyes, the silent begging. With a smile, his lips were replaced by gentle fingers, tracing invisible patterns along the sensitive skin. It was when his fingers once again found the demon’s erection, that he was rewarded with the sweet melody of his lover’s appreciation. Aziraphale leaned down to yet again taste Crowley’s sweet lips, every kiss, every taste, just as exciting as the first.  
A delighted gasp escaped Crowley’s lips as the angel’s slick finger found its way inside him, his back arching into familiar feeling of Aziraphale working him open. The angel left wet kisses down the demon’s throat, drinking in Crowley’s desperate cries as he added one finger after another.  
“You are being so good for me, Crowley.” Aziraphale spoke in a hushed voice, his teeth nipping at hot skin, drawing yet another obscene noise from the demon below him.  
“Please, angel-” Crowley pleaded, his hips moving against the fingers that frankly weren’t enough. He needed more, he needed his angel inside him, pleasuring him like nothing else could. Like no one else.  
Every time felt like their first, from Aziraphale’s sweet smiles, to the half lidded looks that revealed that no angel was ever free of sin. Least of all his angel.  
There was no better feeling than Aziraphale’s hands on his hips, his lips on his skin, and with his hardness filling him until he could feel nothing but eternity - an eternity with nothing but the movement of the angel against him, above him, the two of them as one. 

“Please.” The demon repeated, arms thrown over Aziraphale’s shoulders to bring him in closer. Another whine escaped him as the angel shifted, pouting at the loss of the fingers inside him, as the angel’s hands returned to rest on Crowley’s hips.  
“There we go, love.” Aziraphale hummed sweetly, leaning down to place a light kiss on the corner of the demon’s lips. The angel’s chest drummed with excitement where he lined up against his lover’s entrance, his hardness slick and he could barely contain himself from the sight in front of him. Crowley laid before him not unlike an offering, sweat pearling upon his skin, legs spread to welcome his angel home. 

A low curse slipped past his lips as pushed his hips forward, burying himself deep inside Crowley’s hotness, the need to move almost overwhelming him. A lewd noise slipped past the demon’s lips, his hands thrown over his face as if to hide from the everwatching angel.  
“My dear, let me see you.” The angel’s voice was breathless as he spoke, heavy with desire and unspoken promises of a night well spent. He reached over to gently move the demon’s hands, revealing slit eyes staring up at him, daring him to move. _Beautiful_. That was the word that sprang to the angel’s mind, Crowley was absolutely ethereal, more holy than any heavenly being. With his face flushed, and messy hair falling into his face, he could not possibly think of another creature as beautiful and astonishing as his companion through six thousand years.  
With another movement of his hips, he drew sweet music out of the demon, leaning forward to meet Crowley’s ecstatic movements with his own. He left another hot kiss on the demon’s jaw as Crowley threw his head back, legs locked tightly behind the angel’s back. It felt as if fire was running through his veins, from the pads of his feet to the tips of his fingers, hot celestial flame seeping through the pores of his skin. Lighting them both aflame in the dark night. Another pitiful moan was wrenched from the demon’s throat, arms yet again finding their way to the angel’s neck

“That’s it, my dear.” Aziraphale gasped, moving his hips in time with Crowley’s. Claw like nails dug into the angel’s back, forcing a sinful noise from his throat, egging them both into rocking against the other, their voices calling the other’s name with sparks of fire, urgency unlike any other. The angel’s hands grasped the edge of the seats with his head thrown back, the demon’s name pouring past his lips in ecstasy. The fire underneath his skin was unbearable, the feeling of leather burning below his hands forcefully pulling him out of his bliss. The guilt of damaging the car’s interior was soon forgotten as Crowley lifted himself up, forcefully flipping their positions. Aziraphale groaned as his back met the damaged leather, fingers leaving deep bruises on the demon’s hips. Crowley once again sinking deep onto his hardness, head thrown back all the while he moved desperately, riding the angel more desperate than Aziraphale had witnessed before.  
“ ‘Zira..phale” Crowley hissed breathlessly, neither unable to tell where one started and the other ended, moving together as one celestial being. It was as if time stopped around them,  
Crowley’s movements in the angel’s lap sent burst of sparks through Aziraphale’s abdomen, words of praise mixing in with the demon’s name, the heat around his hardness nearly overwhelming him. ‘Not yet’ He chided himself, meeting each bounce with a thrust of his own, hands firmly grasping the demon’s behind. A needy sinful feeling was bubbling beneath his skin, drunk on power and lust, a feeling only the demon could awaken in him. 

“You feel amazing, Crowley.” The words sent the demons hips stuttering, nails digging into the skin of the angel’s shoulders, the demons hotness clenching around his hardness. It took all of his willpower not to discorporate on the spot, leaning forward to press a hot kiss to Crowley’s chest.  
“I...I can’t-” Crowley whined miserably, clutching onto the angel as if his entire existence depended on it. “Aziraphale, I-”  
“Sh, my dear.” The angel hummed against the demon’s skin, releasing the hold on Crowley’s bottom to let a hand slide between their bodies.  
“Come for me, Crowley.” The angel’s voice was dark with desire, sliding his fingers against the demon’s desperate hardness with an eager squeeze. 

“You can do it, dear.” 

Crowley threw his head back as the angel shifted, one hand in a tight grip on the demon’s hip, while the other was stroking him with a rising intensity. Crowley came into the angel’s hand with a loud cry, grinding down on Aziraphale’s hardness as he tensed around him, nothing but pleading nonsense slipping past his lips. Aziraphale cursed loudly as the demon tensed around him, bucking his hips wildly while he chased his own release. Both his hands returned to rest on Crowley’s hips with bruising force, broken cries of the demon’s name filling the space between them as he came, hours upon hours of lusting hitting him all at once. The angel groaned into the demon’s neck, Crowley lying boneless and spent above him.  
Neither dared to move for a long moment, their lips meeting in lazy kisses until Crowley moved off the angel’s lap, his world still spinning. He felt all to empty for a solid moment, only to be brought into the angel’s arms, curling up together in the cramped space. 

“Are you alright, my love?” Aziraphale spoke all to softly, cupping the demons face in his hands to leave a light kiss on Crowley’s forehead. The demon’s first response was a light laugh, burying his face into the crook of his angel’s neck, as if to hide the brilliant smile adoring his face.  
“I have never been better, angel.” Crowley hummed against his skin, eyes closing to enjoy the feeling of the angel’s arms around him. Warm, safe. Loved.

Nothing felt quite as home to him as when Aziraphale would pull him into his arms, whether it was on the sofa in the back of the bookshop, or in their bed, Aziraphale would be there. _His home_. 

The tender moment was cut short, however, when the realization of what they had done hit him, causing him to startle upright, much to the angel’s surprise.

“Crowley?” When he received no answer, Aziraphale glanced at him almost nervously, having a strong hunch of what was currently going through his partner’s mind. A low, awkward laugh left him at the sight of the handprint burned into the leather seat. He might have gotten a tab bit too carried away.

“Oh my-Fuck, did we just?” Crowley groaned, face falling into his hands in a mix of irritation and embarrassment. “In my car? Of all places?” His whining quieted down at the sound of the angel’s laugh, eyes narrowing in suspicion. If there was something he could instantly recognize, it was Aziraphale’s laugh when he feared he had done something wrong. Afterall, he had heard it the very first time they met.  
It would take quite the distraction for him not to notice. 

Crowley turned to look at him with his eyebrows raised high when he noticed the angel’s gaze, it lingering a moment too long for him to play it off innocently. Following his line of sight out of curiosity, he was soon to regret his decision.

_Oh no_.

“Aziraphale!” Slit eyes stared at the patch of burned leather, mouth hanging open in what could only be described as utter horror. Said angel reached for his scattered clothing, the embarrassment once again returning to color his cheeks.

“You did not!” Crowley spluttered, running his fingers across the scarred surface, looking absolutely heartbroken at the damage. 

“I admit I got rather carried away while we-” He cleared his throat, a range of emotions crossing his face before he eventually settled on a sheepish smile. ”I do apologize, dear. I promise I will make it look as good as new.”

“This is the second time my car has been on fire, angel. She won’t ever forgive me.” Had it not been for the slight pout the demon was sporting, Aziraphale might have thought he was proper upset with him. Fortunately, he knew Crowley well enough to differ between dramatics and anger, using the moment to bring them face to face.

“You had a good time, I presume.” He smiled, pressing a light kiss to the corner of his mouth, earning a muffled hum in response. 

“Yes, but-”

“Precisely. Now let me miracle this away while you get dressed. I believe we still have an appointment at your flat.” The twinkle in the angel’s eyes was more than enough to keep the demon on his toes, sending him scurrying for the missing items.  
With a snap of his fingers, the interior of the car looked as if nothing had happened. Even though he knew the Bentley would now use every opportunity to blast bebop or what not at him in well deserved punishment. 

Even as fun as this had been, the demon’s flat certainly held more than enough room for his original plans. But as it was, Crowley’s kitchen counter would remain unconquered for today. Not that it mattered now that they had all of eternity left to explore together, whether it was inside the walls of their homes or not. 

The silence dragged on as the car pulled away from the restaurant, Aziraphale desperately adjusting the crooked bowtie in an attempt to keep himself busy. Quiet car rides were nothing new between them, usually Freddie’s voice would boom through the speakers, doing more than enough speaking for the both of them. 

Tonight was the first for many of things.

Not even the radio was willing to play, and Aziraphale was convinced it was about more than just the burned seats. Crowley had been far too fond of that car for it to develop such a character of it’s own. 

“Still-”

Aziraphale looked over at the sound of Crowley’s voice, holding back a groan at the look of utter delight on the demon’s face. Whatever left his mouth next, the angel knew it was nothing good. Of course, he was a demon, but that had nothing to do with it- No, it was simply because he was, well, Crowley. And to him, that was enough. 

With a howl, the demon threw his head back in a fit of laughter, barely missing a screaming pedestrian in his glee. He turned his head to the horrified angel with a grin, sunglasses long forgotten as their eyes met. 

“I stay true to my word. Riding _is_ hard on the buttocks.”


End file.
